


Insomniacs Have More Fun

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murdock can't sleep. Then he hears someone call his name in the middle of a little private endeavour, and he really can't sleep after that! As always, a response to a kink meme from LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomniacs Have More Fun

Murdock couldn't sleep. It wasn't a problem; there were lots of nights where he just couldn't sleep and he'd just nap a little in the back of the van later to make up for it. Or he'd go out and climb a few trees until he got tired or something. His mother had told him once how important exercise was to banish the monsters at night, and dang it if she hadn't been right. It wasn't usually a problem that he couldn't sleep.

It did, however, become a problem when he had to sneak past Hannibal's room to get at the aforementioned trees. The man slept with one eye open and Murdock hated waking him up; the boss needed his sleep as much as any other man and he spent enough time worrying as it was. Murdock didn't want him worrying over his sleepless pilot on top of that.

Tiptoeing carefully down the hallway of their latest hideout, Murdock held his breath as he approached the door to Hannibal's room. The boss insisted on sleeping on the couch in the tiny office, but then again, the master bedroom was barely large enough for Face and BA, and then there was the small guest bedroom where Murdock had taken up residence. There wasn't enough room and bossman had insisted he'd be better off in his make-shift office.

Murdock was carrying his shoes in one hand, trying to make as little noise as possible. A floorboard creaked and he winced, stepping quickly away from the treacherous ground. He paused to listen.

“Mmm...”

_Aaw, no, I woke up the bossman!_

“Yeah... like that...”

_On second thought, that doesn't sound like the bossman I know._

“Fuck yeah... ah!”

Murdock flushed scarlet. Oh, he knew what bossman was doing in there. The moans were soft, so soft that they wouldn't disturb Face or BA who were sleeping upstairs, but they were lusty, deep, leaving no doubt as to their cause. Bossman was having some... special time to himself. And Murdock knew he wasn't supposed to hear this.

“Oh God!”

It was a choked groan. Murdock hardened and throbbed in his shorts; those sounds were too delicious to resist. He closed his eyes, leaning just a little closer to the door, and palmed himself through his pyjama pants. Imagining Hannibal's big hands gently stroking him instead of his own spidery fingers. Imagined himself on his knees in front of Hannibal, sucking him off, instead of Hannibal stroking himself.

“Captain...”

Murdock's blood froze in his veins. He opened his eyes hesitantly, preferring not to see Hannibal's angry face when he discovered his pilot standing in the hallway, jacking off to the sounds of Hannibal doing the same. What he saw, however, was the still almost-closed door, a tiny gap the only source of the delicious sounds.

“Fuck! Murdock!”

Murdock didn't move. Hannibal couldn't possibly have seen him; he knew for a fact that Hannibal's sofa was situated to the left of the door and the door opened inwards, and when Murdock stood on the left side of the door too... Hannibal couldn't have seen him. Could he?

A shuddering gasp and the slick sound of lubricated skin on skin from within the room confirmed it to him. No, Hannibal hadn't seen him. The boss was still... pleasuring himself. And at that thought, Murdock had to tightly close his eyes and bite the inside of his lip lest he cry out.

Murdock had figured it out a long time ago, of course. Hannibal had never been a father figure to him; from the first time he'd come charging through the hospital to release Murdock, Hannibal had been his White Knight. Only Murdock was the one providing the steed. And Murdock had wanted to take that knight/steed metaphor a good many steps further; as far as he was concerned, Hannibal could ride him all around L.A. with or without a saddle.

And the thought of Hannibal sitting astride him and bucking as their hips slid together made Murdock a little dizzy and he reached out for the wall, seeking support.

“Murdock...”

That was a drawn-out groan. Hannibal was calling his name. While... while...

“Present and accounted for, sir!” Murdock yelled, throwing the door open and bursting into the room, just in time to see Hannibal's body convulse on the couch as the older man orgasmed, his mouth open and his neck craned back. His shorts were pushed down over his thighs, and he still wore his white wife-beater.

“Captain!” Hannibal gasped, hand still gripping his cock. The white traces of his climax were spattered over his abdomen and hand, and his skin was flushed and slick with sweat. “What... what...”

“Aaw, no fun finishing without me,” Murdock said with a pout. He didn't actually mean it, but he'd been told his pout was irresistible. By Face, actually. “But I'm sure we could try again, sir.”

Hannibal, his eyes glazed over and unfocused, seemed to have some problems comprehending what was going on. “What?”

Murdock efficiently stripped off his pyjama pants and t-shirt, then let his socks and shorts follow. “Let's get naked.”

The post-orgasmic fog finally cleared from Hannibal's eyes and a look of panic spread over his features. “Captain, I'm... You shouldn't be here right now,” he said feebly.

Murdock frowned, confused and still hard as hell. “But you called for me.”

Hannibal's eyes widened. “I was fantasizing, captain. Not the same as ordering you in here.”

“But I was standin' just outside that there door fantasizin' about _you_ ,” Murdock pointed out. “Ain't it logical to add that up and get the two of us in bed?”

Hannibal just stared at him for a moment, then a hesitant smile spread over the colonel's face. “You were thinking about me, huh?” He was still half undressed and the sight did things to Murdock that wouldn't be fit for discussion in polite society.

“And about whether you use a saddle or prefer bareback ridin',” Murdock confirmed with a grin.

Hannibal laughed, then seemed to check himself and settled down into a grin. “Then I think we'd better close the door and keep it quiet, captain, or we'll wake up BA.”

Murdock's heart soared and he eagerly climbed onto the couch to join Hannibal. There was a sheet stretched over the leather and a comforter found in one of the linen cupboards, but the thing was much narrower than a proper bed and the only way they could both fit was if Murdock laid down on top of Hannibal. He had no objections.

“So, boss,” Murdock said, grinning as he dipped his head to lick at Hannibal's abdomen and the slick mess still there. “Are you the knight or the valiant steed?”

Hannibal's eyes glittered with suppressed mirth. “I think I might be inclined to let you mount me, with or without saddle, but I'm not sure which that makes me.”

Murdock's mouth went dry. Really? He'd get to fuck Hannibal Smith? Oh, wow. Wait until he told Facey about this!

“You got any slick?” Murdock asked, the taste of Hannibal's previous release exploding over his tongue. Mm, yeah. He liked that.

“Uh... yeah... Murdock, stop that or I'm going to just fuck your mouth,” Hannibal warned.

Murdock raised his head, giving Hannibal a wide grin. “Some other day, baby. Where's the slick?”

Hannibal reached down for his bag and groped around in it until his hand closed around something and he brought it back up.

“Vaseline? Sir, you amaze me,” Murdock chuckled, unscrewing the lid and throwing it over his shoulder. “You want me to do it? The, uh, prepping?”

“Mm,” Hannibal purred, one of his legs sliding up around Murdock's waist. The other he propped up against the back of the couch, making a perfect cradle for Murdock's hips. “Get my things off first.”

Hannibal's shorts, already dangling from one of his ankles, were kicked off and joined Murdock's clothes on the floor. Hannibal reached down for the hem of his wife-beater, but Murdock batted his hands away.

“Leave it on, boss. I like you like this,” Murdock grinned.

Hannibal almost blushed, but of course he didn't, because he was Hannibal Smith, dammit. “Kinky, captain?”

“Just enough for you, sir. How do you like it?”

“Give me all you've got, captain. I can take it,” Hannibal said with a slight smirk. “Besides, I already got mine, if you'll recall.”

“Next time, I think you should wait for me,” Murdock said, scooping out a glob of the slick salve. “I've always wondered if you're tighter when you come.”

Hannibal's cheeks flamed even as he moaned. “Murdock!”

“I never did know when to keep my mouth shut,” Murdock said with a wink. “And I do declare, colonel, that shade looks mighty fine on you.”

Murdock stroked himself a few times with the Vaseline, then moved his fingers to Hannibal's body, feeling his way between the older man's ass cheeks. Hannibal shuddered and his eyes slipped closed the moment Murdock's fingers circled his entrance. Murdock dipped inside easily and Hannibal's body just opened around him, welcoming like this was how it was supposed to be all along.

Still relaxed and sensitive from his orgasm, Hannibal sighed contentedly and pushed back against Murdock's fingers, his hands coming up to tangle in Murdock's hair. The pilot slid three fingers into him, pushing and stretching, and Hannibal moaned a little. Their lips met again, and the kiss was thrusting and demanding this time.

“Come on, captain,” Hannibal grinned against the younger man's lips. “Mount up.”

Murdock stroked himself again, grip slick with Vaseline, and found support with a hand on the backrest. The other was guiding his erection into Hannibal's body, pausing just at his entrance before slowly pushing forwards and gliding through that tight ring.

“Wow,” Murdock breathed, pausing again to savour the feeling of tight heat around the head of his cock before pushing in further. “Wow, boss. Just like that, huh?”

“Just like that,” Hannibal confirmed, gasping and arching up into Murdock's body. “Oh! Yeah, Murdock, like that, yeah...”

When he was fully sheathed in Hannibal, Murdock stopped completely and looked down at the older man. Blue eyes blazing with heat, that wife-beater crumpled and sweaty, the strong body under him shuddering with lust... it drove Murdock completely bat-shit.

“I hope you're not offended when I say this, bossman, but you're pretty good at taking it,” Murdock said with an experimental thrust and a grin. “I mean... you do this often?”

“Not for a few years,” Hannibal groaned, his hands clutching at Murdock's shoulders like he was afraid of falling off the couch. Or the earth. “Please, Murdock, just fuck me!”

Murdock pulled back and moved back in in a long stroke, his knees braced awkwardly on the couch between Hannibal's legs. The glide back in was just as heavenly as the first thrust had been, and the way Hannibal's smile turned dreamy and his pupils blew wide just added to the awesomeness that was suffusing Murdock's head.

“God, Murdock, keep going,” Hannibal panted.

Murdock followed orders.

Hannibal was almost uncomfortably tight around him, but the harder Murdock thrust the louder Hannibal moaned, so the captain figured he couldn't possibly mind. The sofa squeaked and creaked beneath them, Hannibal's hands tangled alternately in Murdock's hair and the sheets, the room was full of quiet little moans from Murdock and louder sounds from Hannibal. When Murdock raised himself up on his hands and really threw his back into it, Hannibal let out a low wail and arched up to meet each thrust.

Fuck, Murdock thought, that was unfairly hot.

“Bossman,” he gasped, and Hannibal sort of shook his head.

“John,” he panted, muscle shifting as he pushed himself up into an even better position. “Call me John. And fuck, Murdock, do that again – yeah!”

“Only if you call me Richard,” Murdock grinned, “I've always wanted to be a Richard.”

Hannibal began laughing, but it turned into a choked sob when Murdock nailed his prostate dead on and his head fell back instead. “Hnngh!”

“Ooh, I like that,” Murdock said heatedly. “I like that, bossman; I like it a lot! C'mon, darlin', lemme hear you cry out.”

“Murdock,” Hannibal gritted out, his entire body trembling, dick hard and wanting again. “Murdock, please, don't play with me. Not tonight. I've been waiting too long for this.”

And what could Murdock possibly say to that? With a hoarse snarl, Murdock tilted his hips until he could see Hannibal twitch on every thrust and grasped the older man's erection to jerk it erratically. Hannibal gasped and moaned and clung tighter to Murdock, eyes rolling back and mouth stretched wide in a grimace of pleasure. The pilot tightened his grip even more and that was it; Hannibal couldn't hold out against the look in Murdock's eyes and the pressure of his hand combined.

“Fuck!” Hannibal breathed, his body seeming to pulse with orgasm until Murdock felt his own fast approaching. Murdock tried stopping it, he really did, but Hannibal's eyes were wide and deep and so incredibly blue, gazing up at him almost in disbelief, and then the older man's body clenched around him like a clingy furnace and that was it.

Murdock's world exploded in delicious waves of tightness and sparkly lights at the edges of his vision, and he shouted Hannibal's name so loudly he was sure they'd heard him at the local post-office. He collapsed, falling down onto the hard body beneath him, their skins slick with sweat and come and it felt unexpectedly heavenly. So much so that he couldn't really breathe properly, so he chose instead to gasp little puffs of air that disturbed the fine hairs on Hannibal's chest and boy, why had he never appreciated those before?

“Wow,” Murdock said, slowly pulling out and lying back down, “some ride, huh, boss?”

“Some ride,” Hannibal agreed, voice just as raspy and shaky as Murdock's. There was something in his tone that Murdock didn't recognize and didn't like at all. “Murdock, I...”

“Is this where you tell me that this was fun and all, but I'm just not what you're looking for?” Murdock asked quietly. “They don't let crazy people date either, you know.”

Hannibal went completely still beneath him. Silent and deadly, like he could be. Murdock recognized the silence; the boss was about to set him straight. Or as straight as he could possibly get, at any rate, what with him being a sexual deviant and crazy and all.

“I could ask you what gave you that idea, but somehow, I think I know,” Hannibal said quietly. “And we can kill your previous partners some other time, but for now, let's just agree on something, okay, son? I want you to be right here in the morning. I want to make you coffee and explain to Face why he can't have his usual roomie any more. If you don't want that, that's okay; I'm a big boy and I'll just have to deal with that. But don't...”

Murdock looked up, meeting Hannibal's soft gaze with an equally mushy one of his own. “Don't what?”

“Don't leave on my account,” Hannibal said finally, a small smirk grazing his lips. “At least not until I've had my chance to reciprocate. As much as I enjoyed tonight's ride, I'm sure it would be quite satisfactory to both of us if I got to be the knight sometimes, too.”

Murdock couldn't stop the happy laughter that bubbled up from his chest, and he didn't want to at all. “That so, bossman?”

“That's so. Now come on, let's go sleep in your room – there's no conceivable way we'll both be comfortable on this couch again tonight,” Hannibal said, voice brisk but tinged with a mellow, sleepy sound that Murdock instantly adored.

“Oh, I don't know, I've been quite comfortable so far,” Murdock said, snuggling happily into Hannibal's chest. “And my bed's got leprechauns all around it. They'll keep us up all night; they're really homophobic, you know.”

Hannibal's lips twitched, as if he was tempted to laugh. “I see. Well, we'll sleep here tonight, then. And tomorrow morning, I'm commandeering the master bedroom. Face and BA can switch off with the leprechauns.”

***

“Ooh, waffles!” Face crowed, tempting fate by snagging one from right under BA's fork and dipping it messily in the jam pot. “What's the occasion?”

“I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Face,” Hannibal said from behind his paper. “Murdock made you breakfast waffles to soften the blow.”

Face frowned. Bad news at ten in the morning? And why was Murdock already privy to these news? Not to mention, if the bad news were for him, why did BA get to eat his waffles?

“Okay, spill it,” he said, sitting down at the table and looking worriedly at the wall of headlines behind which Hannibal was sitting. “Who died?”

“My innocence,” Murdock declared, putting a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of BA. “There you go, big guy. And maybe a few hundred thousand spermatozoa.”

“Actually, I think it's more like a few hundred million,” Hannibal commented, still from behind that paper.

“Oookay...” Face said slowly, edging a little ways away from Hannibal. He ate his waffle. “So what you're trying to tell me is...”

“I fucked bossman silly last night and we're commandeering your bedroom so he can return the favour tonight,” Murdock said. “You want toast with that, Bosco?”

There was orange juice all over Hannibal's paper and Face was coughing and BA was swearing, then the smoke detector went off because Murdock had forgotten a waffle in the toaster and a good five minutes passed before the room was silent and orderly once more. In the silence that followed, Murdock began humming “You Are My Sunshine” and that was it. Face began laughing.

“Really?” he cackled, a wide grin splitting his face. “Hannibal Smith takes it up the ass?”

“Well, just because you're not man enough, it doesn't mean we're _all_ squeamish pansies,” Hannibal replied drily.

“You can have the room,” BA said, hands thrown up in surrender. “Just keep it down and you can have the room.”

“So why didn't you fuck him, boss?” Face insisted, looking interestedly between Murdock and Hannibal. “You're sorta naturally toppy, aren't you?”

“Well, Templeton, without the aid of certain chemicals, there are only so many times a man can orgasm in one night,” Hannibal said, putting on his best lecturer voice and a shark-like grin. “And real men switch off.”

BA had long since slipped away from the table, a few strips of bacon left on his plate. He didn't mind anybody's business, and he liked to keep it that way. The van was waiting for him, anyway, in a cool garage where he didn't have to listen to who did what in bed. And he figured it was about time he got that mattress situated in the back of his baby. A solitary sleepover in the van seemed like a perfect idea just about now.


End file.
